apprehensive of the pain. When it was my turn to be executed, I bolted and ran home
to my Grandmother Wallace’s, crying, swearing I would never go back to what I saw
as a mean witch and that awful school. I did, of course.
I have real difficulty reconciling the fourth-grade ruler scene with the image
of the serious, disciplined altar boy that I was on the way to becoming that very year.
I can’t believe that at the age of nine or ten, I memorized the responses to the Mass
prayers in Latin. Needless to say, I had no idea of what they meant. The novice
servers were taught by the religious brothers who were members of the Capuchin
community that administered the Saints Peter and Paul church and monastery. They
were hard taskmasters and our training stuck. Later the nuns took over altar boy training.
For the first few months, the new servers only participated in Solemn High
Masses on big feast days like Christmas and Easter. We were torch (candle) bearers
in the entrance procession and during the canon of the Mass, now called the liturgy
of the Eucharist. Then we were trained in the choreography of the ritual of serving
the priest during Mass. At “low" Mass we served alone or with one partner; at “high"
Mass there were four altar boys. Serving by myself was anxiety time at first, but then
I soon found it was fun because I got to do everything.
An altar boy’s life was a hard life for a youngster like me who already had
enough trouble getting up in time to go to school, let alone for the 7:00 weekday Mass
when it was my turn. But I enjoyed it. I remained an altar boy all during high school
and even at times when I was in the Army. The role had brought the Catholic liturgy
close to my heart and remained there over the years.
38
Main and side altars of Saints Peter and Paul Church, where CWR served
as altar boy and received the sacraments.
